The Shiva-Shakti Transgender Community: Embracing Divinity Beyond Gender

As dusk settles in Srisailam, the sacred temple town of Andhra Pradesh, the air grows thick with the scent of incense and marigolds, much like its northern counterpart, Delhi. The temple corridors, once quiet, now hum with the steady rhythm of “Om Namah Shivaya,” a sound as constant as the Krishna River, making a picturesque backdrop for the white visitors from the global north. 

Among the devotees—heads bowed, foreheads streaked with vibhuti (holy ash), bare feet pressing into the cool temple stone—move the Shiva-Shaktis. Dressed in saffron and red, their eyes lined with kohl, their bodies sway to an invisible beat, moving as if something deeper than themselves is pulling them along.

It is a movement that feels strangely familiar—like a trance on the dance floors of underground raves, where people lose themselves, surrendering to something vast and unnameable. This, too, is a rave—but one of devotion.

They are neither men nor women, yet they are both. They are Shiva and Shakti, two halves of a whole merged into one cosmic form. Franz Kafka once wrote, “There is an infinite amount of hope in the universe… but not for us.” And yet, the Shiva-Shaktis seem to challenge that very idea. They exist in a world that barely understands them, yet they move through it with purpose, with faith, with fire.

A Divine Identity Beyond the Binary

The Shiva-Shakti community is not just a group of devotees; they embody something that could be the closest relation to the divine. For them, gender is neither a fixed identity nor a limitation, something that the modern Gen-Z has understood through the nooks of Instagram. Before the advent of technology, the gender of this community shifted, like the river currents, never fully contained.

Many renounce their birth names and their past selves in pursuit of an experience that can only be lived. They become healers, fortune tellers, temple dancers, and spiritual guides. Some people bow before them, whispering prayers under their breath, desperate for their blessings. Others avoid their gaze, unsettled by the presence of someone who does not fit into the categories they understand or can fill in the blanks of government forms. 

Maha Shivaratri: A Night of Transformation

On the night of Maha Shivaratri, the energy in Srisailam Temple is electric. This is their most sacred night when Lord Shiva is said to perform his tandava, the great cosmic dance of destruction and renewal.

The Shiva-Shaktis’ voices rise in hymn and chant, rippling through the thick air, merging with the beating of temple drums. Some fall into deep trances, their bodies trembling, their eyes rolling back as they surrender completely to the divine. To some, it may look like madness. To them, it is oneness.

Inside the temple, they perform ‘abhishekam’, pouring milk, honey, and sandalwood paste over the Shiva Linga. Their chants rise and fall, echoing through the stone corridors as if calling out across centuries, across lifetimes. 

They do not just pray. They do not just worship.

They become.

Sacred, Yet Shunned

When the temple doors close, the world outside does not carry the same reverence. Inside, they are welcomed, their presence essential, their rituals woven into the sacred fabric of tradition. But once they step beyond those walls, the respect fades. People look away, uncertain, sometimes afraid. They live on the fringes, relying on temple offerings, performances, and the kindness of strangers to get by. It is a life caught between two identities—honoured in one space, pushed aside in another—never fully belonging to either.

Shiva’s Eternal Dance

Post dusk, the dawn breaks over Srisailam, and the last echoes of Shiva Tandava fade into the morning air. The Shiva-Shaktis, their bodies exhausted but their spirits alight, bow before the deity one last time before stepping into the waking world.

Some will return to their temples. Some will wander. Some will disappear into the streets.

They will face stares, whispers, and silence. They will be called sacred and cursed in the same breath.

But within them, Shiva and Shakti will continue to dance—unbroken, uncontained, eternal.

For they are neither just men nor just women.

They are Shiva-Shaktis—the ones who walk between worlds.